


Finally, A Winter Solstice Gift for Jaskier

by emmaziege



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gift Exchange, Gift Fic, Holidays, Humor, Implied Relationships, Long-Term Relationship(s), M/M, No Smut, Not Beta Read, Winter Solstice, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:01:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28516092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmaziege/pseuds/emmaziege
Summary: Geralt was just starting to speculate in earnest when Jaskier reappeared around the path between the humble houses, an object roughly the size of his hand wrapped up in one of Jaskier’s best handkerchiefs. He recognized the distinctive pale blue linen square, its edges embroidered with a fanciful border in a darker royal blue. “Geralt! You’ll be glad you didn’t do the classic brooding loner exit while I stepped away,” he smiled, blue eyes beyond what needlework could hope to match dancing with a secret. “Now you can’t say you haven’t had a gift this season. Happy Solstice,” he offered the parcel to the witcher.For his part, Geralt seemed nonplussed. His gaze evaluated the bundle, then went back to Jaskier’s magnanimous smirk. “What is this?”“I didn’t go to the trouble of getting it for you in secret and then wrapping it up to spoil the surprise at the very end,” Jaskier scoffed. “You’re supposed to open it.”************Every year, Jaskier gets Geralt a gift to mark the winter solstice. Geralt is not exactly kind about his acceptance of these gifts. But one year, he gives Jaskier something that may help to make up the disparity.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 23
Kudos: 145
Collections: Geraskier Holiday Exchange 2020





	Finally, A Winter Solstice Gift for Jaskier

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vix_spes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vix_spes/gifts).



“Witchers don’t observe festivals and feast days unless we find ourselves caught up in them as we travel the Path,” Geralt insisted a second time, using many more words than he preferred. He wouldn’t have said as much even a first time, but Jaskier had been yammering ceaselessly about everything he was looking forward to with the approach of the winter solstice. “And we go back to Kaer Morhen over the winters.” He had already explained to Jaskier that this was as far as they would travel together for the year. He would continue north into the Blue Mountains, and Jaskier, who disliked everything to do with climbing mountain peaks in the freezing cold, had agreed he would hitch a ride south as the farmers made their last hay sale of the year to hole up in one of the cities until spring thawed things out a bit. 

Novigrad perhaps. It was easy enough to avoid the people that had scores to settle with him in Novigrad.

As they walked through the Redanian farming village dusted with the first snow of the season, the peasant folk were busy beginning their preparations in keeping with local traditions. The pigs and geese had been allowed to grow especially fat, blissfully unaware that their happy roundness could present them with any danger. Children could be seen chasing one another over the frozen mud in handmade masks made to look like goats, their mothers and aunts calling after them. Men were establishing stone circles for where their future bonfires ought to go and piling up wood to feed those fires. The young maids sat together in a giggling gaggle, talking of which young men they might steal a kiss from to keep off the cold, a cheery conversation to which Jaskier nearly invited himself until he realized that Geralt was already walking Roach well ahead of him.

Churning snow for a few long, hopping strides and sucking in the chilly air to catch up with them, Jaskier expelled a wisp of white and added a rosy flush to match his boyish smile. “Well, there you are then! Back together with your fellow wolves for the season, you all must get up to some grand meals, give gifts to one another, and make boisterous merriment!”

Geralt made a dull sound without looking back. “We pass around bottles of cheap booze and then stumble off to bed. Which makes our holidays like any other day.”

This was during the first winter of their acquaintance, meaning that Jaskier had certainly never visited Kaer Morhen himself. It sounded like an inscrutable, foreboding old place from what he knew of witchers. They had once been well-regarded and well-funded, back in the days when they were created out of dire human necessity. There had been a time not so long ago that you couldn’t swing a cat without knocking three monsters along the way, and that was the era in which the various witcher orders had been essential. Now that things were decidedly less monstrous, there were far fewer witchers, and they were treated with disdain and neglect that was more easily wielded by the ignorant and the petty when there was less likelihood of retribution. Which was all to say that Kaer Morhen didn’t sound as grand as it once had been.

And that, unbeknownst to the bard, would be a magnificent understatement.

“That hardly counts as a holiday,” Jaskier muttered, pursing his lips with duckish disapproval. The holiday memories he recalled fondly were rich with shared songs, mulled wine, sumptuous foods, and frivolous indulgences shared around a roaring fire. It sounded as if Geralt had never had such a grand winter solstice as a witcher, perhaps even over the whole of his life, and wasn’t that a shame? The interior pockets of his thick cold-weather cape were heavy with coin after his initial tour alongside the witcher. All thanks to his own genius as an entertainer and promoter, of course. But there was no denying the White Wolf had made an inspirational subject for his latest smash hit. He might deserve a parting gift.

While Geralt stopped to negotiate over a bag of oats for Roach to get them up the mountainside, Jaskier took stock of what little the village had to offer in the way of a suitable present for his dear grump of a traveling partner. There were… Sticks? Stones? Drab homespun clothes? Whatever the bean and grain mush that they seemed to be eating was? He hadn’t exactly been planning to see the man off with a present, but now that he’d got the idea in his head, he couldn’t leave it alone. No, no, ugh, no _thank you_... But then he saw a wizened old nag of a woman tottering out of her home with a tray she’d brought from her oven, and he dashed over brandishing his charm to see if he couldn’t get her to part with her baked goods for reasonable compensation. “Ah, grandmother! How good to see you, my darling! What have you got there?”

Turning from securing the sack of oats to Roach’s saddlebag, Geralt discovered that the bard had wandered off without a word. He frowned softly, amber eyes searching the drab surroundings with something like alarm. This was where they had agreed to part ways, yes. But Jaskier hadn’t decided to sneak off without a farewell, had he?

Geralt was just starting to speculate in earnest when Jaskier reappeared around the path between the humble houses, an object roughly the size of his hand wrapped up in one of Jaskier’s best handkerchiefs. He recognized the distinctive pale blue linen square, its edges embroidered with a fanciful border in a darker royal blue. “Geralt! You’ll be glad you didn’t do the classic brooding loner exit while I stepped away,” he smiled, blue eyes beyond what needlework could hope to match dancing with a secret. “Now you can’t say you haven’t had a gift this season. Happy Solstice,” he offered the parcel to the witcher.

For his part, Geralt seemed nonplussed. His gaze evaluated the bundle, then went back to Jaskier’s magnanimous smirk. “What is this?”

“I didn’t go to the trouble of getting it for you in secret and then wrapping it up to spoil the surprise at the very end,” Jaskier scoffed. “You’re supposed to open it.”

That hadn’t been what Geralt had meant. He had known what it was from halfway down the village where the old woman had brought them out of her oven as the smells were carried his direction on a chill breeze. He’d scented the juicy beef, the starchy vegetables, and the combination of herbs through the fresh-baked bread crust with a witcher’s senses, and his stomach had rumbled. But he had thought better of spending too much coin at the end of his journey and running the risk of the peasant woman being frightened or spitting on him. What he had been asking Jaskier was: _why are you giving me this?_

Whatever Jaskier’s reasons, he looked as pleased with himself as if he were the one receiving a present.

After a long beat, Geralt reached over and accepted the bundle into his black-clad hands. He unfolded Jaskier’s handkerchief, revealing the meat pie that he knew to be inside already. He didn’t intend to give the bard the satisfaction of surprise on his face when he knew what it was… But he hadn’t expected the savory pie to come fashioned in the shape of a fat dairy cow with big horns and oversized udders. It looked ridiculous. A reactionary twist of a smirk couldn’t be helped. “Which hungry child did you steal this from?”

“That’s not how you thank someone for their generosity,” Jaskier gave him a look somewhere between a pout and a scolding.

Geralt shook his head, wadding the bovine pie back up in the square of cloth and pushing it into a saddlebag for safekeeping. “Did no one ever tell you not to eat cow pies when you were a boy?”

Jaskier sputtered, the comparison clearly not having occurred to him until now. “That’s – It’s not a – This is why witchers don’t get solstice presents! This is exactly why, if you want to know!”

The witcher was already climbing up into Roach’s saddle, throwing his leg over her back before he looked back down at Jaskier. He hadn’t been sure what to do about this moment earlier. The best thing would be to tell the bard he had enough experience to write whatever fantastical witcher songs he wanted now, so there was no point in meeting up again. Jaskier had nearly gotten them both killed more than once. Pragmatically speaking, he was more trouble than he was worth.

That ridiculous beef pie. That was Jaskier all over, wasn’t it? A freely given encumbrance he had never asked for. Something he had not thought to want, would not have chosen for himself and that he would have told you if asked that he was frankly better off without. 

It smelled delicious.

“I come this same way when I set out on the Path every year,” he told Jaskier, his tone carefully even.

To someone who did not know Geralt particularly well, it could have sounded like an off-hand statement, a minor detail. But Jaskier heard the invitation in it, and the joke about the pie was swiftly forgiven.

“I do get restless come spring,” Jaskier committed likewise, holding fast to his lute and rocking on the half numb balls of his feet.

************

After that first year, it became a new holiday tradition of their own making: Jaskier would furnish Geralt with a gift for the winter solstice, and Geralt would find something unkind to say about it without reciprocating any formal gift of his own. Chronicled for posterity, the bard Jaskier’s private journal included several pages of notation dedicated solely to these exchanges. The first entries have been reproduced here:

\- 1241 Gift: Ofieri silk scarf. Geralt complained it looked too expensive, that it was likely to be stolen or hinder him in negotiations regarding his pay for contracts. Something about it looking as if he had coin to spare on idle luxuries, so he didn’t need to charge as much? He used it as a bathing rag until it was ruined. I can think of worse ways to go than being scrubbed against those chiseled muscles and that lovely bottom until coming apart, but still.

\- 1242 Gift: Jingle bells twined with bright holly for Roach to wear. You know, I thought I was onto something that would make the common folk and the other witchers alike pleased to see them, something festive and fun! Geralt asked if I was an idiot, making sure every monster on the Continent could hear him coming, and said how holly is toxic to horses. I asked why he had to go off riding down monsters for the solstice instead of taking the day like every other sane person, and why was he feeding the holly directly to the horse when it’s purely decorative? He threatened to stomp my jingle bells and I don’t think he meant the gift.

\- 1243 Gift: _The Merry Adventures of Muriel the Lovely Harlot, Illustrated Edition._ Encountered this rare find at Hodgson’s this summer and snatched it up just to see the look on Geralt’s face when he saw the pages within. He couldn’t possibly object to saucy stories with etchings of artfully nude ladies in a very agreeable humor to see their strapping hero in a similar state of undress! The library of Kaer Morhen apparently has a first edition, signed by the original author. Of course it does. That book must be two hundred years old, how was I to guess?

\- 1244 Gift: Beeswax candles. A decidedly practical gift! Fine, Geralt wants something less showy, more boring. How could anyone object to a fine set of candles that don’t stink to high heaven or belch smoke all over? Geralt says, well, the only time he’s likely to use those is back at Kaer Morhen. AHA, I have you now, you prickly bastard, I said back to him – it’s good that you’re taking them back to Kaer Morhen for the winter, isn’t it? Think of all the reading and writing you can do there! He says there’s not nearly enough to last him the winter, and he couldn’t carry them all up the mountain if there were. I took those back for myself, I’ll have you know.

************

1245 was a year that Jaskier had not yet arranged a gift for Geralt come the winter solstice. Jaskier had come down with an awful head cold that dogged his heels for nearly two weeks before the day, and he wasn’t sure it was even a good idea to see Geralt off in the direction of the Blue Mountains. “You’ll have your peace this year, you ungrateful bastard,” Jaskier grumbled from his bed at the inn where they had found themselves, an elbow slung over his sore, puffy eyes. Was he flush? He felt flush. He should make Geralt fetch him water before leaving him to die, alone, on the holiday itself, if he could manage to hold out that long. Water. And chicken soup. And a strong drink to keep his circulation going. More pillows, perhaps…

“The healer said you’ll be _fine_ ,” Geralt reminded from the stool adjacent to the bed, still in his casual black clothes rather than his full armor. “The only reason you don’t feel better already is because you get restless and insist on going out and running around like a fool. All you need is to stay in and sleep it off.”

Jaskier lifted his forearm to squint at Geralt crossly where the man sat, sniffling as he felt the tickle of what may very well be a sneeze threatening the unspeakable mess packed into his sinuses. “I shall consider that advice, as I wither and die of utter boredom during the most festive days of our coldest, darkest months. Speaking of cold, darkness, and self-imposed boredom – why aren’t you on the road already? It’s practically dark. You’ll be late getting back by a whole day.”

“I’ll be late by a year,” Geralt corrected. And then, very annoyingly, did not willfully elaborate.

Jaskier groaned and made quite a fuss about sitting upright in the bed, sniffling harder. “What does that mean?”

Geralt reached into the waistband of his trousers, pulling out something that Jaskier did not recognize immediately, and handed it over. It was a soft blue square of cloth that had been folded in on itself, embroidered around the edges with a richer blue thread. Once unfolded, Jaskier realized what it was. His own handkerchief, finally returned to him after five years of being completely forgotten. The same handkerchief that he had wrapped that meat pie up with, on the first day he had given Geralt a winter solstice gift. Jaskier promptly put it to use for its originally intended purpose with a resounding honk.

“If I stay the winter this once, I think there’s a chance you won’t die,” Geralt put it dryly. “I’ve sent a message to Vesemir already. I know you love the holidays, and how much you hate being sick. We’ll manage something to make up for it once you feel better.”

Wiping his nose clean, Jaskier sniffed again and folded the handkerchief back up again to tidy it as best he could. “You witchers are awful at the holidays. But as far as gifts go… This one’s not bad. Happy Solstice, Geralt.”

“Happy Solstice, Jaskier.”

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a Geraskier Holiday Exchange gift for vix_spes, who requested a canon setting including various festive gifts that Jaskier has bought Geralt over the years and the one time that Geralt buys him a gift... Okay, I did cheat the prompt slightly. But it's the thought that counts, right? ;) I hope you enjoy it, vix! <3


End file.
